


Frustration

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-11
Updated: 2008-11-11
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Susan's frustrated by Harry's insensitivity.





	Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“HARRY!”

The outraged shriek echoed throughout the house, and Harry winced. When his usually chipper wife got angry, the whole world knew about it. Still, he knew he had no one but himself to blame.

Listening to her stomp downstairs, Harry braced himself for his well-deserved tongue-lashing, the promise never to do it again already on his lips when she burst into the kitchen, and the words died in his throat.

Susan stood in the doorway, bristling like an angry cat, if a wet cat could bristle, her hair still dripping from the shower, rivulets running down between her breasts to disappear into the fluffy towel wrapped around her. Harry’s fingers itched to unwrap her, even though he knew now was quite possibly the worst possible time for such things.

“How many times have I told you about stealing all the hot water?” Susan demanded, shivering in the cool kitchen air. The towel really didn’t cover that much, Harry couldn’t help but note. “It’s not like you’ve got miles of hair to rinse soap from like I do, and since you don’t want me to cut it I’d think you’d be a bit more attentive about such things!”

“You do have lovely hair,” Harry said. “I’m sorry, Susan. It won’t happen again.”

“You said that last time,” she huffed, still glaring at him. “I’m going to cut it all off, see if I don’t!”

“It won’t happen again,” Harry assured her, meaning it this time. He truly did love her long blonde hair and it would be a shame if she actually carried out her threat one of these days. Judging from her expression, he was pressing his luck and her last nerve.

Crossing the kitchen, he wrapped both arms around her shivering frame, heedless of the moisture dampening his own terrycloth bathrobe. Kissing her just below her ear, he smiled when she shivered for another reason entirely.

“I guess I’ll just have to warm you up another way, huh?” he murmured, teasing the towel from her. “Or am I going to have to take my own cold shower? I’ll make breakfast afterward.”

Susan’s lips twitched, trying and failing to maintain her displeasure in the face of such contrition. “Prat,” she sighed, just before Harry kissed her again. “I really will cut my hair next time it happens, I mean it.”

The towel slipped to the floor between them, forgotten.


End file.
